Harry Potter and the Shadow of Halloweens Past
by PopCornFailure
Summary: A prophesy can mean many things, but trying to understand and predict what the Monkey's Paw will give you, will only lead to the wrong conclusion. This is a different October 31st, and a different, but not too different, Harry Potter. Told in small snippets from various characters, with scenes inspired by the books, but not corralled by them.


Harry Potter and The Shadow of Halloweens Past

October 31st 1981

Flashes of green light.

A child orphaned.

A world cheered.

A shade of a man, if it could even be called _that,_ was quite confused for a split second. Then agony became the world. A universe of pain in a toddler's forehead. For the ritual would not be stopped, could not be stopped. Existential pain filled what was left of it's mind. Endless waves of pain, which the shade tried in vain to free itself from it's physical host, anything to escape from the inferno that was consuming it. Oblivion would be preferred to this agony. A constant pressing urge to flee, to run, to avoid this small baby. Anything to avoid touching the small child. Anything to avoid the waves of shredding agony, which _hated_ it's existence, hated the fact that the shade had the nerve to be close to the child, close to the one it tried to murder. A shield created by a willing sacrifice. A sacrifice whose last thoughts were filled with pure desperate need to protect her child from the monster at all costs. The shade's mind washed away, like sand on the beach, drowning under a mountain of impossible pain, demands it could not meet. The ritual did not care that the shard flailed, and latched onto the nearest living creature, rather then the intended item. Neither did it care that the soul jar was magicked into destroying the man, and all he represented. Nor did it care that there was no out. Only destruction of it's vessel would free it from it's torment. As the shade's mind washed away, and the dust settled, only the small hiccuping sobs of a small child were left in the cold October night.

August 7th, 1987

A warm Sunday Afternoon. Little Whinging, Surrey. A couple small children were playing in front of a rather boring house. Harry Potter lived there. Harry's life was pretty decent, to a 6 year old. Him and his cousin Dudley got presents on their birthday. He had a room with toys! Everything was honestly pretty great! He did know something was different though. He remembered when he had fallen off Dudley's shoulders when him and Dudley were on the counter trying to find where Petunia stored the biscuits, and something had happened when he fell, and some sort of black mist shot out of his back, and set him on the ground softly. Him and Dudley thought it was super cool, and so immediately tried to make it happen again. After getting back on the counter, and finding the biscuits, of course. Honestly, he had no idea why him and Dudley only got one after dinner. It simply wasn't fair! After stealing the biscuits, the boys clambered off to Dudley's room, to jump off the bed to see if the floaty mist would happen again. It did. And then Dudley broke his ankle trying the same thing. So as Petunia rolled her eyes, dragged Dudley and Harry off to get Dudley's ankle fixed, they at least had the box of biscuits with them. So, that was a plus at least. Maybe he could make the mist to make more biscuits?

Later on, his cousin snuck into his room, after dinner, and for Dudley, that was impressive! After one of Petunia's meals, mostly all they wanted to do was go to bed. She always insisted on eating "proper meals", which meant that sleeping it off was mandatory. So for Dudley to (successfully!) sneak in was a major achievement of motivation!

"Psstt! Harry?"

Scrambling in the door, walking much like a cross between Pidgeon and cat, Dudley head over to Harry's bed.

"Have you tried what else you could do yet?

"Err, no?" Everyone

Harry wasn't quite sure what he did wrong, but Dudley was looking at him like he had grown a beanstalk out of his ears. Given Dudley's usual expressions, ranging from manic excitement, to a rather amusing expression his uncle called "Grow up and I will tell you", his current expression was something he has never seen directed towards him. Rather intimidating!

"So you just got super powers like Bannana Man, and you aren't seeing what they can do? Can you make me a Bannana-man action figure?"

"I don't like Bannanaman? Everyone knows that "The Shoe People" is more funny!"

He DID like the Shoe people more! Bannanaman was just dumb! But this DID sound like one of the Opportunitiesthat Vernon like to talk about. Him and Dudley didn't much know what Vernon was talking about have the time when he would tell them stories to them after work. Harry definitely knew that _opportunities_ were good, and he should _sell high_ , and never put all the cards on the table, but Petunia didn't let Dudley and Harry play cards yet anyway, so that didn't quite make sense why it was related.

"Well just try to make a toy! Then we could trade em at school!"

Harry immediately glued his head to Dudley. That WAS a good idea! He knew that Adam, and Simon, who Harry and Dudley were both chums with, both had moms that made great cookies… Dudley was usually right about this sorta thing. So he tried to do what he had felt before. Like a tingling, but _different._ Like a sheet on the world, just these jolts of more than what was visible. And sometimes, especially if he was angry, the world got fuzzy on the edges, colors seems to pop and warp, and even when when he played in the rain, which he wasn't supposed to do, but did anyway, he never got sick or injured. Harry and Dudley were the neighborhood stuntman and showman respectively, especially with climbing trees. Harry never fell, and the closer he was to the sky, the more he loved it. So something that could get him more friends? Why not?

He tried to just wish for a Bannanaman figure, but nothing happened. He felt a tinge of the rush that happened when he fell off the counter, but nothing actually happened in his open palm, where he wanted it. Rather frustrating that! So he focused harder, and there was a shimmering in the air, and his shadow started to warp in his hand a bit, and promptly generated a blue and yellow blob, that if you squint, almost looked like a person. Almost.

Dudley almost fell off the edge of the bed snickering, rolling around snickering.

Harry started scowling, not a fan of being mocked, but he did have to admit, the doll did look bad. But, he did think that a bannaman action figure beating a Dudley action figure over the head with a banana would be funny, so he focused again, the shadows simmering and flickering in his palm, and a much more impressive Banana man action figure warped into reality. To say nothing of the hilariously tiny Dudley doll clenched in a yellow fist.

Eyes wide and gaping, a surprised Harry and awestruck Dudley stared at the action figure, then at each other.

"Awesome!"

"Wicked"

"We will get SO many snacks at school now!"

A new era of fun was born, with images of excitement and adventures dancing in the children's head.

July 25th, 1991

Petunia was dreading it. Oh, she knew that Harry was going to Hogwarts, and that was that. No choice about it. Not that she would be given a choice on that matter anyway. From her childhood memories, she remembered that Lily's letter came around this time. Harry and Dudley were two peas in a pod, and did everything together, and she was dreading the day that that world would reach into her life, and rip it apart. She was dreading getting that letter. She dreaded Harry leaving for school. She knew the backstory of what had happened to Lily through that _letter_ , (and wasn't that a way to notify the next of kin.. a letter and a baby on the doorstep). And no checkups on Harry in 10 years! She knew Lily had friends in that world!

Petunia found it quite indicative of a doomed society if a popular family's orphaned son was simply abandoned on a doorstep! What if she had been one of those horrid mothers like on the news, that locked their children in cupboards, or something equally awful? What if they had been on vacation when that senile old man left Harry on a doorstep in November? Simply disgraceful! She had cried for what seemed hours, deeply regretting that she never managed to make it up to her sister, would never reconcile with what was her only remaining family member, before that flawed world ripped her away.

She wasn't too worried about Harry getting bullied while at Hogwarts though. Harry was the image of a perfect gentleman,and even Ms. Higgens down the block liked Harry, and she was well known to hate everything, including her own children. Harry and Dudley were the two most popular kids and school, well liked by everyone, and she certainly knew what they were getting up to, but as long as it was in good fun, she didn't mind. Harry did magic differently than Lily did. Lily could do amazing things, but she had never seen anything like what Harry could do. She had found out about Harry's mist magic when he was six, but it seemed that he had more control over it then she ever saw Lily have at the same age. Whether he truly understood the danger that was possible was another matter entirely.

Their obsession with toys and action figures soon moved to other things, and Petunia certainly didn't buy any of the many toys saturating the house, nor did she buy the bikes that Harry and Dudley showed up with. Harry and Dudley had started a repair business for yard tools for money, as Vernon had stated that allowances lead to spoiled children, and once they realized Harry could fix things by magic, they took off. Dudley set the prices for service, ran their little schedule, and helped organize who was next in the que. Harry simply held out his hand, and that strange mist flowed out, enveloped the object, and left it sparkling clean, and brand new.

Regardless of what it was, Harry could fix or improve things. Petunia didn't mind, since all their furniture was made of the finest materials, everyone sleeping in beds that were perfectly matched, with crystal glass plates every day, and she couldn't remember the last time she had to buy detergent. Harry would do magic for hours straight, and never seemed to get tired, and it seemed to make him more energetic the more he did, which seemed to bleed over to Dudley, to her exhausted, fond, chagrin. But that shadowy, warping, mist… Petunia didn't know very many wizards, but she had the common sense to know that most peoples shadows didn't waver on the edges, like a mirage when performing spells. Or that time that Harry had gotten really mad about that nasty Polkiss kid when Plokiss tried to steal Harry's bike. From what she managed to get out of Dudley, Harry started to flicker with _something_ , and scared Piers off bullying completely. Harry had no idea what he looked like at the time, just that he was really mad. Dudley hadn't seen much, but he just said it looked scary, like all the light was being sucked up. She didn't know quite what it was that gave him that type of magic, but she knew that whatever it was, it was unique to Harry. She just hoped it didn't end up killing him like it killed her sister.

June 30th, 1991.

 _Dear Professor McGonagol_ _l-  
_

 _Thanks for the letter. I know I can do magic already, my cousin and I even make our own toys,_ _and we fix things too,_ _but have a few questions about Hogwarts. My Aunt told me some things, but I have some more questions. Could I have someone tell me how I get my supplies? Aunt Petunia says it's in Diagon Alley, but she doesn't know the address. And why do I need a wand to do magic?_

 _Thank you,_

 _Harry Potter_

Minerva McGonagall walked down the stairs from the headmaster's office in a more cheerful, if contemplative mood then when she walked up. This was always a hectic time of year for the Hogwarts staff, and this year was no different, though for different reasons. While class sizes at Hogwarts was never large, this year had the smallest list of students yet, and critically, Harry Potter was arriving at Hogwarts. She still doubted Albus on the merits of leaving Potter with the Dursley's, but from the letter, he seemed to be a typical inquisitive 11 year old. What she didn't understand was why Albus wanted Hagrid or Snape to be the one to introduce him to the magical world. While she loved Hagrid to death, he wasn't exactly Statute of Secrecy friendly, and she wouldn't send Snape to introduce anyone unless she wanted them to completely avoid the wizarding world and avoid Scotland for the rest of their life. That man was an acquired taste that as far as she could tell, was impossible for humans to palette. With that in mind, she got her traveling coat on, walked to the edge of the wards, and promptly apparated to Surrey. Albus be damned, she was not going to send Snape to introduce the son of James Potter to the wizarding world.

As a pop bounced off the row houses of the boring, but otherwise well kept neighborhood, she walked up to private drive, and noticed that it was in absolutely great shape. Not one spec of dirt on the siding, with a garden lush with flowers, and what looked like a quite elaborate backyard fence made of cast iron. It all felt very magical to her, which was odd. Usually all-muggle areas felt flat, or lacking a certain intangible quality, that magical areas had. Number 4 Privet drive had that magical feeling in spades. And wasn't that curious.

After a ring of the doorbell, and the mandatory British cup of tea, (some things are the same everywhere, magical or not), it was time for the discussion.

Author's note:  
Thanks to the brave souls that are reading this! I filled out chapter one a bit more, with more details, and what hopefully draws a better picture of what the characters are like. For those who are curious on why the Dursleys are "OOC", I prefer to imagine Lily's death as a wake-up call to Petunia about the importance of family., leading to her and Vernon treating Harry as family. My other head-cannon is that McGonnagal was observing them at a time of great stress for Vernon and Petunia. The UK economy was entering a recession during 1980-1981, so it's more than likely that a young employee at a company that makes blue collar equipment would be under enormous stress and pressure, leading to an inaccurate impression if under observation. Add the inaccurate starting picture, with Petunia's commitment to being a better person to make it up to her sister she never got to reconcile with, and you get a doting Petunia, and a Vernon that is confident in his carreer, supported and supportive at home, and has a fondness for telling stories. That, and I can only read overly nasty Dursleys so much before hating it. I am trying to get a draft of Chapter 2 done this weekend as well.


End file.
